


A Marriage Based on Love

by katerzzz



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Edwardian Period, F/M, Fluff, Historical, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katerzzz/pseuds/katerzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Napier was not a vain man. And he didn't consider himself a very interesting person. But his wife, Lady Sophie Fairfax, thought him so. And as the sun sets on the last 'golden day' of Edwardian England, Evelyn and Sophie ponder the little life they have just created together, and wonder what the next few years hold for themselves, their world, and their newborn baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Marriage Based on Love

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, Evelyn Napier is, IMO, one of the most deprived characters in the entire Downton Universe. And I, as a History Undergrad, am guilty of being a MASSIVE Edwardian era fangirl. I love everything about it, and had an interest in the British aristocracy long before Julian Fellowes came along. And so, when this shy, beguiling and rather handsome young man came to stay at Downton with Lady Mary and the dodgy Pamuk, I fell slightly in love with him. And his ability to speak the truth. And so, I thought I'd give him a wife from one of my own fictional aristocratic families. Cue Lady Sophie Fairfax. If you want to see more of these two, then please let me know in the comments! :D

Late July 1914

"She," Evelyn whispered as he reached out tentatively with his left index finger, pausing in mid-air for a moment, before running it down the soft, new, unfamiliar face he stared at "Is really quite splendid."

He retracted his hand and gazed down at the little bundle of fresh pink skin and white lace cradled safely in the arms of the woman he had been addressing his wife for little under a year.

She sat comfortably tucked in the bend of his arm as he sat by her head. Her champagne blonde hair had been tied into a large thick plait running the length of her back and her peacock green-blue eyes were fixed on her newborn daughter, who cooed in her mother's sweet, faintly-scented embrace, her little eyes firmly shut, determined not to open them on a new world,

"She is, isn't she?" Evelyn's wife turned to look up at him, her eyes vibrant behind the obvious exhaustion of childbirth, she smiled and leant her head on his shoulder "And to think she's all ours."

"Mmm," Evelyn murmured in agreement as he soothingly caressed his wife's right shoulder with his fingers. He blinked slowly and became immersed in the moment of new-found indescribable love which came with fatherhood and stronger love for the woman that had given him his daughter.

"Darling?" The gentle voice of his wife brought Evelyn back into the mint green bedroom he shared with his wife at Streatley Park, the ancestral home of the Branksome Viscounts since the turn of the 18th Century, he glanced down with questioning grey eyes as her voice caught in her throat in a false realisation "You're disappointed, aren't you?"

Evelyn's face fell, he sunk to his knees on the carpet as he insisted "No!" He reached for her hand, pulling it away from their baby and kissing it "No, Sophie, no!" He kissed her pale knuckles again "My darling, I...," he struggled to find words, swallowed, and blinked up at her "I have never been so happy in my whole life."

Sophie blinked at him and tightened her lone hand's grip on the baby, smiling she asked knowingly "Even with everything about cousin Mary and poor Mr. Pamuk?"

Evelyn smiled and nodded slowly "That is all water under the bridge, my love. Whereas this little one," he motioned to the baby "Is the first of many bridges that we will hopefully build together."

Sophie giggled, her maternal instincts taking over as her laughter startled the baby. She hushed the little girl back to sleep as Evelyn returned to his spot on the side of the bed "I'm going to feed her myself," Sophie gently placed her index finger near her daughter's mouth, delighted as she started to suck on it "I know both our grandmothers will consider it terribly carnal but I don't care. She's my daughter and it wouldn't be fair on myself or any potential wet-nurse if we were both deprived of our babies," she glanced overly briefly to Evelyn, who smiled at her despite his usual impartiality to the natural way of things, and clicked her tongue playfully "And on a more practical side it saves money paying any potential wet-nurse."

Evelyn chuckled softly "I think my father would see round that reason much easier than you being deprived of the baby," he reached over and dared touch her cheek again "What are we going to name her? She can't be 'baby' forever."

"No," Sophie agreed, shifting in bed "I was thinking Vivienne, after your mother?"

"What about naming her after yours?"

"Charles has already had Mama's name marked as a name for any potential daughter of his," she spoke of her own late mother "I shan't deny him his chance."

Evelyn, now won over by the comfortable aura of the bedroom, asked "Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can, darling," Sophie didn't sound surprised "I was wondering why you hadn't already asked," she said as she sat up and carefully handed her precious cargo to her husband "Careful, make sure you support her head," she muttered, watching with the eagle eye of a new mother as Evelyn took their child into his arms for the first time.

The son and heir to the 8th Viscount Branksome gasped as he watched the baby wriggle in her swaddling, before settling back to sleep; he then carefully picked up the trail of blankets in the baby's wake and slung it over his shoulder, all the while not taking his eyes off of her.

"She is absolutely perfect, Sophie," Evelyn breathed "She is absolute perfection," he leant down and kissed her smooth head "Vivienne is perfect."

Sophie watched, quietly happy to be free of the baby for a moment or two, as Evelyn walked round and round the room, cradling the now named baby Vivienne, and then said softly "So is there any news of what's happening in Europe?"

Evelyn stopped in his tracks and felt his shoulders, and his heart, sink. However much he tried to hide away from it, however much his heart told him to continue playing happy families, he knew it was only a matter of weeks, even days, before Britain would be flung into some sort of conflict. London had been flying with rumours before he had come back to Streatley, and the murder of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand had given the European heavyweights an excuse to flex their military muscles. He sighed.

"There is," he answered his wife "But I'm not going to bore you with it," he walked back over to the bed and kissed Sophie's hair "Not right now," he glanced down again at his daughter, who lay asleep in his arms and cooed "And I doubt little Vivvy will be too fond of me if the first story I tell her is of boring old men and monarchies."

Sophie smiled nervously; whilst she wanted so much to believe her husband, her position as the daughter of an ancient and politically savvy ducal family gave her other sources, namely her two brothers "Jack says there's going to be a war," she called gently again as Evelyn stood by the window, whispering to the baby.

"With all respect, darling," Evelyn glanced back at her briefly "Jack doesn't know everything."

"He knows enough," Sophie's eyebrows knotted; she swung her legs out of bed, heaved herself up and padded round to Evelyn as she added "Enough to make me worry."

"Well you shouldn't," Evelyn blinked softly as Sophie's beautiful face obscured his view to the gardens "And anyway it might all blow over."

"And if it doesn't?" Sophie asked, concerned "Suppose there is a war; I know you'll be the first in line to sign up. Where does that leave me and Vivienne?"

"You'll have to worry about if when, and more importantly if,the time comes," Evelyn took her finger tips and kissed them "But for now," he glanced down at the little baby "All you have to worry about, is not depriving yourself of your baby."

Sophie glanced down at baby Vivienne too, taking in everything about her brand new face; she didn't know the world yet, she didn't even know her own mother and father, so whatever was wrong with the world, Sophie Napier had other concerns.

Three days later, Britain declared war on Germany.


End file.
